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Post by Cducharme on May 27, 2013 0:08:04 GMT -5
I don't write lyrics while super depressed.
The freedom of death has escaped me Forever alive, lost within this land of hatred If it was focused outward I could last But instead I could kill me, and you'd just laugh
Never acknowledged me, nor admitted I was your's Life is wasted, when you can't go home I found a home, however lost Until it was ripped away forever gone.
If you could just see me now, I'd laugh and sigh Instead I get to live and spit in your eye If I wasn't me, I'd be better, but I am So all you get is this could've loved something else, but can't see the beauty in what I got
The one thing I can cling to is you'll die before me If only I knew that were true, there'd be certainty Today I could just destroy myself and feel great Or continue on, spreading my message of hate Too bad it's focued inward
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Post by Steve on May 27, 2013 1:05:37 GMT -5
I can almost hear a late 80s James Hetfield barking that. Good work!
And now you've shown me yours...
TWILIGHT MAN © Stephen Lord 2003
"Some might say that sunshine follows thunder/ go and tell it to the man who cannot shine." (Noel Gallagher)
He can't face the day, but he's scared of the dark You'll find him somewhere in between He is the ruler of all he surveys In a world that may never have been.
His face is kept hidden from all human eyes He is a master of riddles and lies
He's the man on the street in a town with no name Who awakes when the light starts to dim To walk in the shadows and wait in the wings, Is the one kind of life for him.
A man made of stardust or so he pretends Who lives in a daydream with ghosts as his friends
His home is in limbo, not heaven or hell It disappears with the first ray of sun He's built a palace of impossible things With just enough room left for one
He'll take you on a trip through his fantasy land Reach out and let him hold your hand
He's the twilight man
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Post by Cducharme on May 27, 2013 1:06:44 GMT -5
I can almost hear a late 80s James Hetfield barking that. Good work! And now you've shown me yours... TWILIGHT MAN © Stephen Lord 2003 "Some might say that sunshine follows thunder/ go and tell it to the man who cannot shine." (Noel Gallagher) He can't face the day, but he's scared of the dark You'll find him somewhere in between He is the ruler of all he surveys In a world that may never have been. His face is kept hidden from all human eyes He is a master of riddles and lies He's the man on the street in a town with no name Who awakes when the light starts to dim To walk in the shadows and wait in the wings, Is the one kind of life for him. A man made of stardust or so he pretends Who lives in a daydream with ghosts as his friends His home is in limbo, not heaven or hell It disappears with the first ray of sun He's built a palace of impossible things With just enough room left for one He'll take you on a trip through his fantasy land Reach out and let him hold your hand He's the twilight man So much better than what I write... Fuck and to think, I've wasted my time singing my bullshit for the world!
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Post by Steve on May 27, 2013 1:14:07 GMT -5
Thank you . I have a bottom drawer full of this kind of stuff. Somewhere in my twenties I wanted to be Paul Simon and/or Morrissey, despite the inconvenient fact that I can neither sing nor play an instrument. Once upon a time I wrote with this young lady in mind and she liked my stuff, but singing is a part time thing for her now (can you believe she's a maths teacher?) and she prefers to write her own material as I always said she should. I'm stupidly proud of my autographed copy of her album, signed 'lots of love'. Naaawww....
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Post by Cducharme on May 27, 2013 1:19:37 GMT -5
Thank you . I have a bottom drawer full of this kind of stuff. Somewhere in my twenties I wanted to be Paul Simon and/or Morrissey, despite the inconvenient fact that I can neither sing nor play an instrument. Once upon a time I wrote with this young lady in mind and she liked my stuff, but singing is a part time thing for her now (can you believe she's a maths teacher?) and she prefers to write her own material as I always said she should. I'm stupidly proud of my autographed copy of her album, signed 'lots of love'. Naaawww.... Heh if she's looking for a baritone to go with her let me know (shhh don't tell Kriss I said that! not that it'll probably matter in a few weeks.)
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Post by Steve on May 27, 2013 1:26:33 GMT -5
You may just be in with a shot there. Did I mention we met through an Iron Maiden board of all places? Also, she once scolded me for listening to Amazon samples of Iced Earth's Dark Saga before I bought it.
'Dark Saga must NOT be previewed, young man! You WILL sit down and listen to the whole thing. Do I make myself clear?'
'Yes, Miss.'
Everything okay between you and the other half, CD? I hate that expression, but then most of them make me want to puke apart from inamorata, which no-one ever uses.
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Post by Cducharme on May 27, 2013 10:54:42 GMT -5
The old lady and I are as fine as usual, we just fight like hell when she wakes up in full on cunt mode for no reason. Then blames cunt mode on me. "MY SHOULDER HURTS THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT I'M YELLING NOW" kind of shit. Live with the fairer sex long enough and you'll see those days at least 500 times
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Post by Steve on May 27, 2013 11:06:54 GMT -5
Cunt mode is acceptable if you're built with one, no? As I'm sure I once read on the back of a matchbox, the secret to a successful relationship is separate bedrooms. In different states .
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Post by Cducharme on May 27, 2013 11:25:00 GMT -5
I couldn't do that, I like the messy act of coitus too much
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Post by Steve on May 27, 2013 11:33:44 GMT -5
But, but , but... where do you put all your notepads, pens, spare glasses and books you're halfway through if you have to make room for someone else in your bed? Then there's the issue of farting, not to mention stray elbows all over the place and blanket hogging. Christ, I get anxiety attacks just thinking about it.
'You want to do what now? I'm reading, woman! Didn't God give you fingers?'
And don't get me started on my lifelong dread of one person wanting to read with the bedside lamp on while the other is trying to sleep. Nope, couldn't deal with it. I can't hear you, I'm not listening, la la la!
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Post by Cducharme on May 27, 2013 11:35:47 GMT -5
But, but , but... where do you put all your notepads, pens, spare glasses and books you're halfway through if you have to make room for someone else in your bed? Then there's the issue of farting, not to mention stray elbows all over the place and blanket hogging. Christ, I get anxiety attacks just thinking about it. 'You want to do what now? I'm reading, woman! Didn't God give you fingers?' And don't get me started on my lifelong dread of one person wanting to read with the bedside lamp on while the other is trying to sleep. Nope, couldn't deal with it. I can't hear you, I'm not listening, la la la! I wish I had answers, perhaps her and I would be less likely to murder/suicide if we did! (That's a joke btw)
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Post by Deleted on Jul 13, 2013 22:49:20 GMT -5
TWILIGHT MAN © Stephen Lord 2003 "Some might say that sunshine follows thunder/ go and tell it to the man who cannot shine." (Noel Gallagher) He can't face the day, but he's scared of the dark You'll find him somewhere in between He is the ruler of all he surveys In a world that may never have been. His face is kept hidden from all human eyes He is a master of riddles and lies He's the man on the street in a town with no name Who awakes when the light starts to dim To walk in the shadows and wait in the wings, Is the one kind of life for him. A man made of stardust or so he pretends Who lives in a daydream with ghosts as his friends His home is in limbo, not heaven or hell It disappears with the first ray of sun He's built a palace of impossible things With just enough room left for one He'll take you on a trip through his fantasy land Reach out and let him hold your hand He's the twilight man Good stuff. I can imagine Ozzy singing that. In fact, this line would fit in seamlessly as one of the verses to 'Loner' from 13: He's the man on the street in a town with no name Who awakes when the light starts to dim To walk in the shadows and wait in the wings, Is the one kind of life for him.It can be sung in a similar vocal melody to this: Has he ever tried to be happy, reach out from inside Someone on who he can depend It's getting too late to recover, he won't stand a chance And into his own hell he'll descend
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Post by R&ROVER on Jul 13, 2013 22:51:56 GMT -5
Pretty deep for a guy who prefers escapism.
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Post by R&ROVER on Jul 13, 2013 23:05:11 GMT -5
Pretty deep for a guy who prefers escapism. Who? Me? I couldn't help but hum along to 'Loner' when I read those lyrics. Nothing "deep" about that. No, the OP. Just giving him shit too, by the way.
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Post by Cducharme on Jul 13, 2013 23:20:43 GMT -5
Like I said, I don't drink usually before writing lyrics because than those pesky emotion things get involved and create drivel like that. For me the most cathartic way of getting my emotions out is creating a world in my head (I used to write everything down, now I'm just lazy) and creating stories for as many of it's occupants as I can. Lyrics I usually stick with your standard metal junk
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Post by Steve on Jul 23, 2013 3:47:05 GMT -5
Cheers, Dan. Loner is my favourite song on 13 and I appreciate the comparison.
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